Just One
by AmbrLupin
Summary: “Aw come on, man! Its just one drink. What’s the worst that could happen?” Not a oneshot. BlinkMush & SpotRace
1. The dance

Just one

Chapter one: The dance

By: Ambrlupin

Rating: T

Summary: "Aw come on, man! Its just one drink. What's the worst that could happen?" Not a oneshot. Blink/Mush & Spot/Race

Disclaimer: I don't own newsies. Red (Collin) however, is mine.

A/N: this was basically written for the prom season, and on a dare. A few friends of mine told me I wouldn't have the guts or whatnot, to write a newsies story about a drunk driving accident. So I did, using it to also put a point across. I hope someone reads this and thinks twice, maybe, about drinking and driving, even with peer pressure. There's always another choice. Remember that.

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_"What's the worst that could happen?"_

I remember those words. They're clear as a bell in my mind, echoing over and over like some heralding of doom, a deepest of omens, even so many years after I had uttered them.

They're nothing but innocent words, or thats what I told myself, innocent in their asking, innocent in truth. But there was nothing, nothing innocent about the outcome, nothing innocent in what I caused, which just those few words.

The end of my senior year. It was a time for Prom, a time for celebration and hopeful new starts. A time to live the life of a kid one last time before joining the real world. Being the driver of our little group, I thought it was my job to show off the town, after the dance.

Having already called the parents or guardians of all parties concerned, and getting permission from each and every one- after all, I was a responsible young man- I picked up all the glowing couples and started off for the dance, which was being held in the lobby of a huge hotel in the ritzy northern part of town.

"Oi, Jacky!" Blink reached over while we were stopped, twisting at the dials on my radio, an intense look of concentration on his face. "How bout some tunes before we get there!"

I laughed, swatting at his hand lightly. "Dude, im driving! Quit it!"

"You're stopped." Mush pointed out from the back, but he did attempt to pull his date back into his seat. "Come on, Blink, we're almost there anyway."

If you wanted Ryan "Kid Blink" Ballat to do something, you went to Mush. In no time at all, the blonde was not only back in his correct seat, but buckled in and chatting to his lover in a normal tone.

"God, Nick, I could kiss you." Race- who was sitting in the very back of my mini van, in the arms of _his _date- called out.

"Don't do that!" Sarah teased from where she sat in the passenger seat, looking nice and lovely in her floor length gown. She was _my_ date, by the way, "Spot will get mad at you."

"Darn straight." The last of our group smirked as he laid a light kiss to the Italian boy's forehead, "This here is my sexy man, and he knows better than that."

"Sexy?" Blink snickered. "The midget of all midgets? _Sexy_?"

Spot sent him a glare that would make any other fall down and quiver in fear. Being only a few inches taller than his date, the Irish kid had learned intimidation early in life, and he was using it all to defend his boyfriend. "Yes, he is." He growled.

"Okay." Blink raised his hands, "Okay, whatever you say."

"My hero." Race snickered as he curled an arm around the other's waist and laid his head on the tuxedo-clad shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at the blonde, though, as soon as he wasn't looking.

"Anthony." Mush wagged his finger back at him, "Don't antagonize my boyfriend."

"Nicholas, don't tell mine what to do." There was Spot again.

"Eeeee!" Race clung to him, a wide grin on his face, which faded as Blink made a phony retching noise behind his hand. He then just turned around and flicked him off, before returning to cuddle up with his cute little 'Spottie.'

"Children, behave yourselves." I laughed as I pulled into a parking spot. "We're here anyway. Lets try and keep ourselves out of trouble, okay Spot?"

"F-you, Jack." Spot said cheerfully as he opened the door.

Rolling my eyes I shut the engine off and hopped out of the car, running around it to open the door for Sarah. I shrugged into my jacket and held my arm out for her, which she took with a shy smile.

"Aw, aren't you two just so cute?" Blink laughed, done with his teasing of Race and Spot in favor of other prey. "Gonna get a lil girlie action tonight, _Jacky_? Gonna get...laid?"

Sarah's face flushed a little, and she averted her eyes as I merely sent a look to Mush. A second later Blink cried out in shocked surprise as his date reached up and smacked him in the head. I gave a nod to the other and Sarah laughed as I swept her into the lobby.

The hotel of course, had been nice before tonight, but for prom, the place was stunning. Banners hung from the balconies, the lights were just dim enough to be called dim, but still light enough to be adequately lit. The floor had been polished till it shone, a light opaque marble in color.

Half of the prom goers were already here, already dancing on the floor in packs, swinging to the music that was being provided by the DJ in the corner, his headphones half on and half-off his head as he played with dials. He looked familiar, and when I saw Spot and Race making their way over to his side, I realized why.

"Look, its Collin." I had to lean down to Sarah's ear in order for her to hear me. I pointed with one hand and she grinned, raising up on her tiptoes- although how she managed that with high heels is beyond me- and gave the tall redhead a wave, to which he returned, before he turned his attention to the two tuxedo clad men that had come to visit him.

"Think they'll even dance?" She asked me with a smile.

"Who? Race and Spot?" I snorted, "Hardly. They only came because Mr. Brodsky made it clear he..disliked having such...questionable young men in his school."

"What did I hear bout me?" Blink asked as he swung by, one of his hand's clasped with Mush's. Always one to be outgoing, Blink's hair matched his suit. It was bright gold, and rather stunning to look at. He wore it well, though.

"He thinks everyone is talking about him." Mush explained as he spun by, wearing, like Spot and Race, the traditional black tuxedo. "Just ignore us, please."

"His ego _is_ astounding." I nodded, slipping my arm around Sarah's waist, leading her to a nearby table, which was, conveniently, empty. I opted, instead of the black, to wear white. The only downside to that, however, was that I had to completely watch what I was doing.

The upside? I looked darn good in it, and I matched my girlfriend. With her dark hair done up in a sporty puff at the top of her head, -curled so that it fell down her neck- she had worn a low cut, off the shoulder white gown, complete with diamond earrings and necklace.

The dance went well, quite well in fact. After the first few mishaps of the evening- including but not limited to; Spot stealing the DJ-ing job from Collin and throwing in a few songs of his own...interesting tastes, and Blink's complete seduction of Mush on the dance floor during a slow song...it was pretty much the greatest night of my life.

I danced with Sarah, of course, danced until my feet were killing me and I had to take off my outer jacket just so I didn't die of the heat, and she was forced to kick off her high heels, to the joy of Blink- who hadn't yet stopped teasing her, but was bound to do so soon, if the way he was eyeing his date was any indication- and dance barefoot.

Somewhere around eleven, I half-collapsed and half-fell into my seat, among chuckling from my impromptu prom party, and threw down the cup of punch Sarah handed to me with a laugh. "I think you've become the lady, Jack."

"I do think you are correct, lovely Sarah." Skittery grinned as he spun her around, "And so, may I, the lonely man, entice you to dance?"

She laughed, pushing him away with one hand, "Alas, dear sir, I have my own man to attend to, and who already has asked for my hand in this dance." And she promptly slid her arm around Spot's shoulders, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"Argh!" He yelped, startled as he scooted away and rubbed his face irritably. "Jack, get your girl away from me!"

Race, with a knowing grin, held Spot to him. "Poor Matt is afraid of girls, or have we all forgotten such important knowledge?"

"I am not afraid of girls!" Spot half-shouted -to the delight of all- with a flushed face.

"Yes, dear, we know."

"Im not!"

"Okay! We believe you, Spot." Skittery held up his hands, a wide grin on his face, as he sat backwards in a chair, his black vest halfway unbuttoned. There was a light lip-stick mark on his neck, probably from his date, whom was floating around at the moment. "So, where are you guys gonna head off to after this thing?"

I shrugged, "A club or something." It was getting late, but I had promised to show everyone a night on the town before I started to drop them off at their respective homes. "Why?"

"Ah, im having a party at my house. Thought you all would like to come on over."

"Free booze?"

"Of course."

"Im in!" Spot immediately vocalized, already reaching for his discarded ebony jacket.

There was a surprise. Matthew Conlon, jumping at the chance for free booze, be still my beating heart! It was no secret that if you looked in the dictionary, Spot's name was next to alcoholic. Not that he was one, per se, but he did do a lot of social drinking, and was quite good at it too.

Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I frowned a little. The guys, I was quite positive, could take care of themselves at said party, but... "Are you all right with this, Sarah?"

She grinned back at me, laying her hands lightly on my arm. "Im fine with it, Jack."

I didn't need to look behind me to know the other four were beaming at Sarah and sending her little thumbs-up. After all, this was my group, I knew them all inside and out. Relenting, I nodded. "We'll be there, Skits."

I should have said no, I should have just opted to take them to a club, or some other place where I knew there would be supervision. Don't tell me why, but I knew it, in the farthest back of my mind. A teenager's party on prom night? That was the breeding ground for all sorts of trouble, drugs included. That was _not_ a place to take a girl. But she said she didn't care.

And there was the first mistake I made that night.

But not the last.

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Whoo-yay! This is the first part of the three or so part story.

Please leave me a review using the button on the bottom left that says 'submit review'

**_Next Update:_** Sunday (tomorrow) at 5.


	2. The party

Just one

Chapter two: The party

By: Ambrlupin

Rating: T

Summary: "Aw come on, man! Its just one drink. What's the worst that could happen?" Not a oneshot. Blink/Mush & Spot/Race

Disclaimer: I don't own newsies. Red (Collin) however, is mine.

A/N: this was basically written for the prom season, and on a dare. A few friends of mine told me I wouldn't have the guts or whatnot, to write a newsies story about a drunk driving accident. So I did, using it to also put a point across. I hope someone reads this and thinks twice, maybe, about drinking and driving, even with peer pressure. There's always another choice. Remember that.

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Skittery's house lay on the edges of the rich neighborhood, seriously bordering on the poverty-line, yet at the same time, he still managed to live in a fine house of two stories and sporting marble floors. How he did it, no one knew.

But, what everyone _did _know, was that it was the _best_ place to have a party.

Harsh metal music, the kind they wouldn't play at the hotel, literally seeped through the walls, so loud the floor shook with it. To get to the booze, which was stationed and carefully looked over by yet another of our friends you had to wade through the dancing bodies. For some reason, I was not surprised to see all of the people who had declined going to prom for one reason or another, were here, dressed up in clothes you were definitely _not_ allowed to wear at the school approved function, and having the time of their lives.

Skittery must have moved all the furniture upstairs, which was off limits, because the large rooms on the bottom floor were all clear, even of rug. There were no couches to dirty, no lamps to knock over. He had been prepared.

Extremely so, especially when I saw he had placed large trash cans in the corner of every room, with large heavy-duty bags. The light were really dim, but on one side of the room they were turned up, illuminating a long table on one side of the main room, laden down with every teenager's favorite food group- the junk.

Spot, as soon as he walked in the door, took one look around the large living room and entrance hall, and immediately made a beeline for the area in which all the alcoholic drinks seemed to be coming from- the kitchen- with Race following along behind him like a puppy dog.

"Whooo!" Mush cried, stripping off his jacket and laying it over a nearby chair, "let's par-tay, Blink!"

"I second that!" Skittery cried as he came in just behind us. The fact that he had been at the prom instead of being at his own house party had not escaped my notice, and I would ask him later, perhaps, when I had the time.

Because right now, Sarah was leading me into the dancing, and I, found myself following without even a word of protest. Easily getting into the music, we danced, hardly noticing the passing of time, hardly caring how late we were going to be, hardly caring that all of our parents might start to worry.

We were adults now, we were able to make our own decisions, however foolish they might have been. My hands were on her hips, and hers were on my shoulders, and I wondered briefly about how true Blink's statement earlier that night might be.

It wasn't something I was planning, but right now, anything was a possibility. And if Sarah and I having sex was one of those...well, heck, who was I to complain? So I just smirked and listened to the music as I danced with my girl.

"Having fun?" I asked her, having to nearly yell over the noise.

"Yes!" She cried back, spinning around and kissing my lips quickly, "Im having the best time of my life!"

_What a coincidence_, I thought, _so am I. _

I had promised to show them the town, and well, in some weird way I was. The whole town was here, packed into this house, dancing, smoking, drinking, and having a good old time. It wasn't quite what I had had in mind, but we were having fun, and that was what counted.

Spot and Race danced by then, yes, _danced_, with drinks in each of their hands, and a cigarette hanging from their lips. Yup, there was one way to get them to join the crowd. Drunk and nicotine-high.

We watched them twirl and fall over each other, laughing and holding our sides. Spot's shirt was unbuttoned, but he didn't seem to mind, neither did Race, who was missing his vest and his jacket, leaving him in nothing but the white dress shirt. He was even without his tie.

Spinning to a rather hard drum solo, Spot threw his head back and guzzled the rest of his beer. Briefly I wondered how much he had consumed already before, get this- he pulled another cold one from his deep pant's pocket, even as he threw the other one toward some random kid.

Flipping the new one open with his thumb he did a quick step to the beat, among whistles and cat-calls, before giving an extravagant bow, grabbed Race by his sleeve, and staggering to my side, pulling his date with him.

"Hiya, Jacky-boy!" Spot purred as he patted my back, "Nice party."

I didn't even feel like correcting him on whose party it was. The air in here was hazy, and I knew I had gotten high from whatever it was floating through the air- which, in a way, kinda explained why it was I felt so happy go lucky, and forget the world. I briefly toyed with the idea of leaving, but that idea went out the door. I was having too much fun.

Mistake number two.

"Hey, man!" Skittery hooked his arm with mine and drug me off, turning to Sarah with his charming smile. "Sorry, lovely, I need to steal your date for a minute."

She just waved at us, "Don't rape him, Skits," She teased, knowing full well the tall dark haired nineteen year old was the ladies man of all ladies men. "He doesn't hold up well to that sort of stuff."

I flashed her an annoyed glare, but she laughed and turned to talk to Mush, who was leaning against the wall, his eyebrows raised so high they were in his hairline. I turned to see what had captured his attention so, and found Blink doing an odd mixture of a strip-tease and break-dancing in the middle of the room.

I pointed this out to my kidnapper and he assured me, with a wink, that Blink would be mysteriously barred from the kitchen for the remainder of the night. I asked about Spot, and nearly gave our host a heart-attack.

"Bar Spot from the drinks!" He exclaimed, eyes wide in horror. "I wouldn't have a house left!"

That was a good point, but, "He's going to drink you out of your house, Skits."

He merely grinned, "Come with me."

Leading me into the large, large kitchen, I was astounded - and yet not surprised, yet again- to see that the large island in the middle of the room was covered in all sorts of drinks from hard alcohol such as Jack Daniels, or Southern Comfort, vodka, or rum, to even fine wines.

"Woah." I blinked, wide-eyed. Never before had I seen such a display, not at a house party, anyway. I should have expected it, though. After all, Skittery was known for his drinking, even as much as Spot was.

"Ahuh." He reached over and snagged up one of those disposable and yet washable red plastic cups and gestured at the table, "What do you want?"

"Oh, no." I shook my head, a little hesitant about refusing."I don't want anything."

"But I got you something." He bent over and rummaged in a cabinet, finally pulling out a dark amber bottle, which he set on the table in front of me and turned it so the white and gold words on the black paper were facing me.

I nearly groaned aloud. "Black Velvet." My only weakness. Imported in from Canada, it was a smooth whisky that I had come to love over the years. Odd, but true. "Skits, how could you? You know im driving tonight!"

He gave me a shrug, with a grin that said he knew he had me. "Well, I had bought this for you even before you called me and told me you were driving, so I plead the fifth. But here's how I see it. The party's going strong, and your group doesn't seem ready to leave, so why not have a drink with me. Just one. That'll be out of your system in no time."

I had the 'no' right on the tip of my tongue, but what he said was true. One drink wasn't going to bother me, it wouldn't even make me tipsy, heck, three drinks couldn't get me tipsy. And he was right, we weren't going to leave anytime soon. But still...

"I don't know." I murmurred, trying not to look at the bottle. "I kinda promised my mom I wasn't going to drink tonight..."

He snorted, "Is your mom here? No. Come on, Its prom night! Just one little drink? For me?" He pouted, tilting the bottle so that the alcohol inside it swished around the glass. "Look, I spent money on you!"

That did it.

"All right."I relented, "Just one drink."

Mistake number three.

Somehow, that one drink turned into five, and that five turned into ten, and before I even knew it, I had helped Skittery polish off the Black Velvet, a Jack Daniels, and half of a bottle of Morgan, and by that time, Sarah had come looking for me.

"Jack Kelly!" She nearly yelled, "_What_ are you doing?"

I raised my head and saluted her with a shot glass. "Hullo, love. Care to join us?"

"No!" Her face was livid as she stalked to my side, "How much have you had to drink, Jack? How much!" She grabbed the glass from me.

"Oi!" I yelped, quickly snatching it back. "What's your problem? I haven't had that much! God, Sarah, its prom! Im just having some drinks with my friend!"

She cast a scrutinizing glance over me, eyes narrowed. "I want to leave soon." She announced as she spun on her heel and stalked out. Skittery cast me a 'sorry-man' glance and I shrugged. Soon meant soon. It didn't mean now.

We toasted to that.

Several times.

It was hours later, sometime in the early morning, when I started up the car and backed out of the driveway, Sarah fuming in the seat next to me, and the guys laughing hysterically in the back over something they found on Blink.

I didn't even want to know. But at the same time I did. So, as I pulled out and sped off down the road, I turned around and spared a glance. Blink was trying to mold himself into the back of his seat, arms crossed as he denied everything, his face red.

Mush wasn't even trying to defend his boyfriend, in fact he was all but unconscious in his seat, head propped up on the window. I felt kind of bad about keeping him out so late, as the only straight A-honor roll student any of us knew, he worked his butt off during the week and usually used the weekends to rest.

Spot and Race were leaning on each other, dangling something I couldn't see in front of the blonde's nose, cutting each other off and finishing each other's sentences, giggling the entire time. They were so high and drunk it was funny to watch.

So I laughed, man did I laugh. I just felt so good, despite the scoldings I was receiving from my date- this was the last time I was taking her anywhere, I decided- and my mind was in a haze, a good and warm haze. Rolling down my window I howled into the wind and took the corner without pausing, running straight through the stop-sign.

"Jack!" Sarah yelled, her hands clinging to the dash. "Slow down!"

Slow down? Why? This was great! The wind ran past my face, its icy feeling in such contrast to the way my stomach was burning, it sent shivers down my spine. I laughed, brushing aside the warnings, both thought and vocal (from Sarah) and just watched as the speedometer climbed higher and higher.

I had never felt so alive, so in control. It was a thrill, my blood boiling with it. The adrenaline rush mixed with the alcohol and the drug filled air I had inhaled, sending me over the end of my pleasure kick. I didn't even know who I was at that moment.

Suddenly... "_JACK_!"

Too late I saw it. The pole. Where had that come from? It certainly hadn't been there a second ago. I heard Sarah screaming, but all I saw was the dull black of the metal, filling my vision, even as I stomped hard on the breaks, swerving.

Sarah was out of her seat, trying to help me turn the wheel hard enough to alter our course, the guys were done joking around, and they were panicking, shouting out my name; as if my name alone would stop the speeding vehicle.

And then...nothing but pole.

With a loud crash the car hit the tall electrical pole mostly on the passenger side -due to the efforts of turning- and then, going past, hit the decline for the ditch...and we were in the air. I screamed, one harsh sound as I threw my arms up over my head. We landed on our top, rolled over, once, twice, and then...everything was black.

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Sniffles bet you couldn't see that coming.

**_Next update: _**tomorrow (Monday) at 5.

Now leave me a note in the bottom left using the bottom that says 'submit review' and I don't care if you have an account or not. I just like to know that this is touching people. You know, its true, and its harsh. This stuff is real.


	3. The crash

Just one

Chapter three: The crash

By: Ambrlupin

Rating: T

Summary: "Aw come on, man! Its just one drink. What's the worst that could happen?" Not a oneshot. Blink/Mush & Spot/Race

Disclaimer: I don't own newsies. Red (Collin) however, is mine.

A/N: this was basically written for the prom season, and on a dare. A few friends of mine told me I wouldn't have the guts or whatnot, to write a newsies story about a drunk driving accident. So I did, using it to also put a point across. I hope someone reads this and thinks twice, maybe, about drinking and driving, even with peer pressure. There's always another choice. Remember that.

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I woke to the sound of metal grating on metal. Groaning, I felt something warm dripping down my face and I raised my hand weakly, brushing it away. My fingers came away sticky with blood and I had half a second to think _'what happened?'_ before there was a flash-light in my eyes and I shut them with another pained moan.

It was minutes before I had the courage to move anymore and I bit back a curse as the harsh belt dug into my chest, halting any movement at all. I sat there, my heart in my ears, while blood ran down the side of my face and a light hum ran through the air.

It was a while until I realized the hum I was hearing were voices.

Yes, they were voices, but I couldn't quite catch what they were saying, could make out the murmurs, but no actual words. There was a loud groan of metal that had me biting at me tongue and then it was suddenly much brighter.

Someone unhooked my seat belt and pulled it away, and next thing I knew I was on the ground, in the arms of a young woman, who brushed some strands of my hair and aside, and asked me if I could hear her.

"Yeah..." I murmurred, words slurred. "I hear ya..."

She frowned, and shook her head, "Drunk, I should have known."

"Hey!" I protested, jerking away and getting to my feet, while the world rocked and my head spun. "Im...Im not...drunk..." I rubbed at my head and frowned. "Hey...where are..." My tongue felt swollen as I took a look around, "Where-"

My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat as I took in the sight behind me. Staggering backwards, I felt my stomach in my throat and before I could stop it, or help myself, I was on my knees, throwing up everything I had eaten -and drunk- that night.

I felt something cold touch my forehead, so cold that I jerked away on instinct, only to see one of the cops, because they were cops, dabbing at the bleeding cut. I pushed her away with one hand and tried to get up.

The world swam and I knew before the world turned dark again, that it was a foolish try.

I blacked out on the grass for the second time.

_"Doesn't realize...harsh..."_

_"Underage...regulations..."_

_"Too young...barely..."_

_"I.D...call the parents..."_

I came to this time, to someone finishing places the bandages to the various cuts and scrapes I had acquired. My arm felt like it was on fire, and they told me I might have bruised the bone, because it wasn't broken or fractured or anything like that. They asked for my information and I gave it to them without another thought.

My name was Jack Kelly, I am seventeen. My phone number is 485-3848, I lived off of lockshaire and holly, I had a few drinks earlier that evening, after the prom. Did I know what happened? Not really.

Someone helped me stand, and led me to the back of a car, where I could sit down. I was handed a steaming cup of tea, which I downed quickly enough, and an older officer told me that I was going to have to stay here, until they could get my friend's bodies out.

_Bodies?_ What did they mean, _bodies_?

They stared at me in surprise, surprise and hurt. Their mouths fell open and they exchanged shocked glances, eyes wide. They didn't understand, and since they didn't, neither did I. Finally one of them worked up enough courage to ask.

Didn't anyone tell me?

Tell me what?

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For what seemed like hours I sat in the cop car, head in my hands, fingers digging into my scalp so hard I was sure I had cut myself hard enough to draw blood. My shirt was wet with blood, my own, and Sarah's. It stuck to my skin like glue, cold, so cold.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but I could still see them, could still see their faces, twisted in shocked fear, the last seconds of their lives shown to the world. Blink was halfway over by Mush, probably to pull him away from the window, Race was in Spot's arms, his mouth open in surprise. And Sarah...

Sarah, who had tried to warn me, tried to get the wheel from me...was half-way in the windshield, her eyes so wide at first all you saw was white. I dove to the side of the road, falling to my knees as my stomach emptied itself again, for the fifth time that night.

I could hear her screaming...screaming...

_"JACK!"_

Tears spilled from my eyes, down my cheeks and dripping to the ground like small raindrops. I retched even as they fell, gasping for air even as the sobs stole it away. I heard footsteps and knew an officer was coming toward me, maybe to help. But there was nothing they could do.

Nothing, unless they could turn back time, to only an hour before, when my friends were all alive, when they were laughing, joking around with me. To an hour before, when I had shrugged off everyone's concern and had _just one drink._

"Hey, kid..." They touched my shoulder lightly, hesitantly. "Kid..."

I turned my face toward them slightly, wiping my mouth with my bloody sleeve. My hair fell over my still weeping eyes, and I could feel the drops trail across my skin, falling off my chin, to be lost among the saturated ground.

"You have to come with us now." It was a woman, her eyes full of sadness as she gazed at me, "Are you all right?"

I almost laughed, almost burst out laughing, mostly because of the hysteria coursing through my veins, but also because it was the most ludicrous thing I had ever heard. Did I look all right? Could I possibly be all right after I had just killed five other people?

Did I look _all right_!

Obviously she saw that on my face and pursed her lips as she grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet, not even waiting for the world to stop spinning before she escorted me to the squad car, opening the door for me to get in.

And thats when I saw it. My mini van, crushed and mangled past any hope of repair, almost past recognition. The passenger side was crushed in, from when it had wrapped around the pole, and the roof was tore apart from the flip, and even more from when they had pulled it open to get me out.

They were pulling Race out even as I looked.

His eyes were still open, and they locked with mine across the road. So empty they were, so devoid of anything, and as they pulled him free, his head fell back, limp and boneless. His neck was broken.

Someone screamed, and I didn't realize it was me screaming until I was on my knees, hands clasped over my mouth, biting back my nausea as the cries kept on coming, renting the air, horrible, terrible sounds.

"Kid! Kid!" The officer was trying to get me to shut up, but I couldn't even feel her arms on my shoulders. Couldn't feel her shaking me. "Snap out of it! God, Geoffrey, help me!"

Geoffrey? Who was that? What were they going to do? I didn't care. Wouldn't, couldn't care. The medics lowered Race to the ground- careful of his neck- slightly perturbed by my screaming, drawing a sheet over him, shutting his eyes with their hands, gently, ever so gently.

I wanted to scream at them, wanted to tear them away from my friend, wanted to rip the sheet off, to show them this was all just a horrible nightmare. That my friends _weren't _dead, that they were _alive,_ and we were going home!

"Kelly!" Someone slapped me. And slapped me hard. Hard enough to snap my head to the side, hard enough to stop my frantic yelling, hard enough to make me jerk back to reality with a gasp not unlike a drowning man breaking the surface of the water.

I might have been silent from then on, I might have been conscious, I might have been there, physically, but I barely felt them putting me into the back of the squad car, didn't even move until I was in the seat, and the door shut behind me with one final click. That, beyond everything else, struck home the fact of this night.

My friends were all dead, and I had killed them.

It was true.

It was...

"God..." I sobbed, bending over, hands flat over my ears, eyes squeezed shut so hard a dull ache was beginning behind my eyes. "God..." I was praying, "God, please...please...no..."

But I knew I wasn't going to get an answer. I had made the final mistake, the final...final mistake. I could never take it back, could never atone, could never change it. No matter how much I begged, no matter how much I prayed...

God wasn't going to hear me.

And then, over the radio, full of static, "Fatalities reported...Dark green 1989 dodge minivan... Driver was intoxicated...Repeat...five fatalities..."

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Sorry bout the wait, I got into trouble and couldn't update this.

If every thing goes well, the next chapter will be up:

**_Wend: (tomorrow) at 5_**

Now, leave me a review using that nifty button on the bottom left of your screen that says 'submit review' and it doesn't matter if you have an account or not. Ciao!


	4. The funeral

Just one

Chapter four: The funeral

By: Ambrlupin

Rating: T

Summary: "Aw come on, man! Its just one drink. What's the worst that could happen?" Not a oneshot. Blink/Mush & Spot/Race

Disclaimer: I don't own newsies. Red (Collin) however, is mine.

A/N: this was basically written for the prom season, and on a dare. A few friends of mine told me I wouldn't have the guts or whatnot, to write a newsies story about a drunk driving accident. So I did, using it to also put a point across. I hope someone reads this and thinks twice, maybe, about drinking and driving, even with peer pressure. There's always another choice. Remember that.

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"Into thy hands, O lord..."

It was raining, I knew that much. A storm that rivaled the one inside my soul as the preacher spoke on and on about how wonderful my friends were in life, how devoted, how loving, how much they cared about their futures.

I wanted to rant at him, rave and throw things. He didn't know them, didn't know what they wanted, how they acted. All he knew was their names, words on a piece of paper. He didn't know their dreams, he didn't know _them_.

For an hour he spoke of them, an hour, and the storm never lessened. The caskets sat in a row in front of the church, beautiful coffins of amber-gold wood that shone with cream white insides. Two of the lids were closed.

Pictures in ebony frames sat in the middle of candles and flowers from family members and mourners. Race, laughing while he played away on a drum at our school, Spot jamming away on a guitar, having no clue the picture had even been taken.

Mush had a real school picture, looking prim and proper with a serene smile on his face. One of his folded arms had a small ink stain on his fingers, from the hurried scribbling for finals. Blink was at the beach, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he stuck his tongue out at the camera.

Sarah's picture...I felt bitter tears rise to my eyes and I hurriedly wiped them away with the back of my sleeve. Her picture was of the prom, most likely taken before I had come to pick her up. Her face was glowing as she showed off her dress, her eyes sparkling.

None of them knew that in a few weeks, possibly hours, their lives would be ended because of something I had done. Responsible Jack, honest Jack, would-never-hurt-us Jack, the Jack who was always careful, always prepared.

The Jack that had killed them all.

"Now is Christ risen from the dead and become the dead and become the first-fruits of them that slept..." The preacher bowed his head a moment and said some more words I couldn't catch, and then- "To the heavens we give thee, such innocent children, cut down in the prime of their lives."

Ouch. That was a stab to my heart. Like I didn't know what I had done. I glared at him, even as he swept his arms to the sides, toward the coffins that sat in front of him. "We pray you will take these young souls- the young souls of Anthony Higgins, Matthew Conlon, Nicholas Meyers, Ryan Ballat, and Sarah Jacobs- take them and care for them with all of your mercy."

I winced at the names, resisting the urge to cover my ears with my hands. I didn't need this. I didn't need it! Why couldn't this all just be a dream? Why couldn't I wake up and go to school, and do all the normal things I had been taking for granted? Why!

Why did I have to stand here, with guards on either side, at my friend's _funerals_!

"We praise and glorify God for the fullness of joy which he gives to all who put their trust in him. Amen."

"Amen."

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Many people, I came to realize later, objected my being at the funeral, especially since the only reason why they were here was because I was stupid and had taken unnecessary risks on a night that was supposed to be the greatest night of my life. I found out much later, that nearly all of them- included the parents of my closest friends- had objected rather strongly about my being able to say goodbye, to go anywhere _near_ their caskets.

But that wasn't going to stop me.

I approached the front of the church after everyone else, my eyes held directly in front of me, away from the accusing glances shot my way, away from the condemning people whom had all once loved me.

Once being the key term there of course.

Each step brought me closer and closer to my nightmares, each step bringing me closer and closer to my hell. I paused in front of the first casket, looking down at Spot. He looked like he was sleeping, face serene and calm.

There was barely a bruise on his body, but I knew that underneath his hands and sharp suit was the dreadful wound over his chest that had stolen his life. A beer bottle, taken from the party. It took the doctors near enough to an hour to extract the shards that had sliced up his heart, imbedded in his lungs.

Race's casket was closed, but I knew what he looked like. I would never forget that image of them pulling him out of the car, his head lolling around like some twisted, sick, rag doll. Sarah's casket lid was also shut, and I was glad for that small mercy at least. I heard they had to smash the windshield completely to even get her out.

Trailing my fingertips along the tops, I suppressed a shiver at the mere thought of what they looked like underneath...I couldn't even help but wonder: Do morticians make-up the bodies of those at closed funerals, or did they just simply throw them in, slamming the covers closed to keep the horrors at bay? Young adults, cut down.

My thoughts were not helping me in the slightest, but I couldn't stop now, not with merely two caskets left. I stepped in between Mush and Blink and knew I wasn't going to make it back to my seat without crying. My friends, bright, talented, with their entire lives ahead of them.

Society says the young shall lead the world.

Tears fall down my face and my shoulders shake as I stand before my judges, the family and friends of those I killed, unable to bear to turn around and face them. No, instead I fall to my knees on the church floor, head bowed.

After all this...I am too much a coward to face up to my mistakes.

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_Society says the young shall lead the world. _

I kneel before Sarah's grave, laying some roses on the base of the ebony stone. I let my fingertips trail across her name, bowing my head as I send a small prayer heavenward. I gather the rest of my flowers and proceed to the next grave, and then the next.

_Why?_

Once, a long time ago, in the midst of a joke, Spot told me that if I ever brought him flowers, he would kill me. The others all got tulips, minus Sarah, whom I bought the roses for. For Spot I laid down daisies. He always called them weeds, so technically they weren't flowers.

_I don't understand._

Stepping back, I looked over the cemetery, remarking in the changes three years can bring. Even so long after the initial act, I am still feeling the waves. I went to court, facing so many sentences my head spun.

_After seeing what the young are capable of._

To this day I don't understand how I got off as easy as I did. I should have been thrown into a jail cell and be forced to watch the key get throw away, melted, something...But instead I am standing here, free. For the most part.

_How can anyone wish for that?_

I haven't talked to Skittery since the party. He stays away from me, and I stay away from him. He knows he is to blame, partly, for those deaths. But he doesn't wish to share the pain and instead opts to live in blissful ignorance. Guess I cant blame him.

_It is just too hard to believe. _

The youth of this age are confused, misguided, lost in the translation of what they are, and what they are supposed to be. With all the mixed signals, there is little wonder why our future leaders are falling over themselves trying to model themselves after what they believe we want.

My life was ruined because of this.

Five other innocent lives were taken because of this.

Because I followed the crowd.

Because I had one drink.

_...Just one. _

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Im sorry! -gasps- I got sucked into school and then I had writers block on the end of this...but here it is. The last chapter for Just One. Kinda makes you think, doesn't it?

I hope it does. Because thats all I wanted.


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